Sincerely, Chibugo

life as an undergrad in Nigeria

While the term dating has many meanings, the most common refers to a trial period in which two people explore whether to take the relationship further towards a more permanent relationship

I got that from Wikipedia.

Now, the term “dating” is one of those terms that people seem to have different meanings for. I sensed this when I was told by a colleague, “Hey, you only live once.! This is your time to have fun! You’re so choosy at this dating thing. Seriously.”

Well, I’m sorry, but if dating means making out with every Tom, Dick and Harry I go to the movies with, then no thanks. *insert appropriate grimace*. I’m particular about those I let into my personal space.

Temporary romantic partners are people we date with no intention of settling down with them. Yep, situations like this exist. They’re even more commonplace than you could imagine.

I was shocked when I had a discussion with a friend and she mentioned the man she was dating. In my typical blunt way, I ask, “Do you see yourself spending your life with him?”

“No”. She says.

I am more shocked, if that’s even possible. “Why are you then dating him for Pete’s sake?” I’m perplexed. She’s pretty, not the kind that lacks male attention.

She gives me that “Don’t probe too much” look. I will not mention what she eventually tells me is her reason for being with him, but it does nothing to ease my perplexity.

It doesn’t help that most people who date in our Universities have no intention of ending up with the person they date. It has a name even. It’s called “school boyfriend or girlfriend”. It’s not supposed to be serious. It seldom leads to marriage; as a matter of fact, of the many school boyfriend/girlfriend situationships I’ve seen, only one has ever led to the altar. Mind you, most of these relationships while they exist, bear every mark of “legally married”, while being everything but. Back in university, we actually had a “couple of the year” award. And no, the nominees and eventual winning couple weren’t married but they played their roles beautifully, playing husband and wife like their calling. That’s how normal it’s become.

Dating should be fun, shouldn’t it?

Of course. But that’s not all there is to it. Unless the world became full of selfish, pleasure seeking millenials while I was asleep. How do you explain dating a girl for years and knowing fully that you do not intend to marry her when you’re ready to settle down but want to have all the “fun” now in bed and out of it?

It’s different for the “modern” folks who believe that sex is like a meal you should eat whenever you feel like and move on. If both parties are aware that they’re being used by the other as a “fuck buddy” and they’re fine with it, then hey, whatever rocks their boat. Check out popular scenarios:

1. Girl and boy meet in uni, and decide to date exclusively. They become intimate by plan or by chance. One of them likes the fun and the ride, but knows he/she would never settle for current partner. Years down the line, one of them walks. Dumpee is shocked and wondering why. Dumper doesn’t give time for the dust to settle. Dumper’s next post on Facebook is a wedding picture.

2. Guy meets a pretty young girl and decides he wants her for his wife. She doesn’t love him but because he seems to hold the key to her family’s financial emancipation, she tells him that she has to finish school before they can take their relationship to the next level. He agrees and trains her through 4, 5, maybe 6 years of University. She has a plan all this time. As soon as she completes her program, she tells him she has no interest anymore(old news!) and takes a walk. *insert nollywood dramatic soundtrack*

3. Girl meets famous guy and falls hard. He has other girls but hey, he’s famous so she should be happy she even gets to be called the “main chick” and hang on bis arm at events. Eventually one of the “side chicks” bears him a kid and he has to let main chick go so as to do right by his child. Of course she goes. She must have known that with his roving eyes, their relationship was even less than temporary.

It all boils down to using people and loving things. We love what we can get from people: fame, financial security, perhaps even love(in some weird situations) , but we cruelly use the people themselves to get these things.

Ours is a generation of selfish and myopic cowards, pardon my French. Wanting everything but too lazy to get it the right way, and blaming everyone but ourselves when things go wrong.

Having fun with friends is a great way of building a solid support system, and by all means, experience all there is to experience. As long as it doesn’t end up with you having the body count of a public toilet, or a litany of broken relationships to spice up stories for your future grandkids. You don’t have to be your own Guinea pig. Learning from other people’s mistakes is usually the best way to gather experience without actually living the experiences.

The problem? We don’t stand for anything anymore, and so we fall for anything. If we weren’t such shallow minded pleasure seekers, we would “guard our hearts with all diligence”. Whatever then manages to get in, would be real.

The time to walk is before someone’s heart gets too emotionally invested

Be open and communicative! That way you know just where you’re headed in the relationship and you know when to stop the charade(if there is one)

Stop being a doormat and hoping your partner will change if you do this or that better. He/she probably won’t. Save yourself the hurt down the line and take a walk before you become too invested.

If you’re looking to “forever” and your significant other is looking to “live the moment”, you might just need to develop those leg muscles. Take a long walk.

I’m hardly qualified to speak on relationship matters, but these are truths that people are ignorant of in the search for love or anything that resembles it. The loveless world we live in makes people cling to unhealthy relationships that do far more harm than good.

Don’t cling to shit. It will only make you smelly. Don’t be shit either. You’ll only be flushed down.

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May came and went by so fast, didn’t it? Something seems to be chasing this year. I wonder where it’s running to. Anyway, we shall keep our flag flying no matter what.

So while in school, I was the serious type. Check this very funny post so you’ll understand. Always early to class, never late in submitting assignments, notes always intact, etc. Typically, I wasn’t very fashionable(I’m still not), but I managed to keep my head above water. Shirts to the rescue, most of the time. Now, second year is an academic year I do not want to ever remember because it was such a confusing time. We all had to run around like headless chickens that year, what with so many “borrowed courses” and changes in existing systems. That was also the year of my worst GPA. Bleh. Terrible year.

So on this particular day, we just heard that a class would be in session. This was a course we had to borrow from statistics department and I was not finding it easy as we had had only one lecture throughout the semester and exams were close. Imagine the speed I used to rush out of the hostel when I heard that a class had been fixed. Almost sprained my ankle sprinting to Abuja building for a class I ended up not understanding sef. Mtchew.

I got to class, amid the usual boisterous greetings and haggling for seating space. There were very few girls there, as is typical of impromptu classes, and we got down to business when the lecturer came in. It was quite interactive, even though I could tell that half of the class, like me, wasn’t following fully.

Anyway, it ended and we were all having the usual after class discussions when someone blurted out: “Come oh, Chibugo, which style of wearing shirt be this nah?”. That was when I looked down at what I was wearing. 😩😢😥. I had worn my shirt inside out, and it was extremely obvious. It took me below 2 seconds to recover and throw back a light retort: “You didn’t know? Na the new style wey dey reign naaaw. No carry me play ooo!” And we all laughed. I laughed loudest, but inside my mind, I was like this

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It was one of those holidays in university. I had been home for a few days when this boy began pestering me. He always seemed to appear from nowhere, like a Phantom. I was nineteen, and he looked to be a little older than me but there was no sign that he ever did anything responsible but wear trendy clothes, press big phones, hang about the streets during the weekdays, and play ball on the same streets during the weekends. With my plans to have at least an MSc by 25, I wasn’t giving in to any irresponsible brat. I told him this in my nicest tone of voice, but as a fine boy, I guess he wasn’t used to being turned down. Chai.

Fast forward to a week after this. We were back from mass and preparing lunch when Mother realized we had run out of one ingredient, I can’t remember what exactly it was. I had to dash to the nearest shop to buy it. Gosh! Am I the only one who hates impromptu errands like this? Anyway, I had just walked a few metres out of the driveway when I came face to face with two teams of bare chested boys playing football. I feel extremely awkward when I have to pass by such a large group of boys(Even now. Sheesh), but the food was already cooking so I pushed each foot ahead of the other, walking on the other extreme of the street. Two more strides and I would be out of their sight, or so I thought.

At the same moment I thought this, something hit me really hard on my bum. Yes, my buttocks. I stumbled forward from the impact, but managed not to fall. It had hit me that hard. Those bloody boys had kicked their filthy ball at me! Straight on target too! I turned on them with such venom in my eyes, ready to kick butt, even if it meant that the food would cook a bit longer. The boys immediately began shouting apologies albeit in jocular tones. “Ah, fine sister, sorry oo. Na slip of ball”, “Abeg no vex”, “Aunty sorry abeg”. I was still angry, until I saw who wasn’t talking among the lot. My “toaster” was standing at a very suspicious angle. Only someone at that angle could have kicked the ball so effectively. He wasn’t moving, just looking in the air with no expression on his face. I didn’t need a seer to tell me who had kicked the ball at me. Suddenly I wasn’t angry anymore. I began laughing. The boys joined me in my laughter, but I’m sure they wondered why I was laughing. I’d just been hit by a ball and I was laughing. If that ball had hit me on the head, they would have probably thought I had gone out of my mind from its impact. I dusted my shorts and kept moving. Lunch was on the cooker. Leave trash for LAWMA.

If they only knew. I was not laughing because it was funny; I was laughing because dear “toaster” had just showed me how right I was in not “agreeing” for him. I never saw that boy in my area again. I have no idea why.